Ever since the Trump administration came to power at the beginning of 2025, a slew of long-established disability programmes, including those supporting adults and children with learning disabilities, have been on the chopping block or fallen victim to personnel cuts.
This column has already laid out some of the most egregious actions, including mass layoffs of Department of Education (DOE) civil servants overseeing programmes for children and young people, undermining decades’ long struggles for inclusion.
Derogatory language
Since then – perhaps emboldened by so many flagrant policy attacks – the word “retard” has been raising its ugly head again. On his social media site, Truth Social, Trump used the word as a slur against Minnesota governor Tim Walz. Walz’s teenage son Gus, who has a learning disability, had been mocked when Walz was running for vice president in 2025.
Earlier this year, The New York Times reported on a worrying resurgence in the use of the term across social media and politics.
In the face of such blatant assaults on rights and dignity, it would be understandable if hopelessness took root. However, rather than be blindsided by chaos and dehumanisation, disabled people, advocacy groups and their allies have not only been fighting back – they have also secured some critical wins, at least on the policy side.
In January, in a rare act of bipartisanship (and after dogged advocacy from groups and individuals all over the country), congress resolutely rejected cuts to disability projects proposed in the president’s budget.
It would be understandable if hopelessness took root. However, disabled people, advocacy groups and their allies have been fighting back
Programmes spared included the University Centers for Excellence in Developmental Disabilities, regarded as a linchpin of community inclusion. Wins also included protection of funding for training new special education professionals.
In a further rebuff to the president, congress also (at least for now) preserved the DOE’s authority to enforce education laws.
Kim Musheno, director of Medicaid policy at The ARC, the US’s largest community-based organisation advocating for people with intellectual and developmental disabilities and their families, says the impact of recent advocacy cannot be underestimated.
The ARC – which at the time of writing was part of a lawsuit challenging the legality of the administration’s stated intention to eradicate the DOE – saw a record number of people in its networks contact congress members about cuts and other proposals. Advocates contacted congress more than 677,000 times in 2025.
Riki Sabia, senior education policy adviser at the National Down Syndrome Congress and the mother of a 34-year-old son with Down syndrome, says advocates as well as families and other allies worked “across states” and “at multiple levels simultaneously” to educate lawmakers about the urgent need to salvage provision.
Sabia says being in a “defensive posture” is not an option.
Damage done
Alison Barkoff, a health policy professor at George Washington University and disability advocate, cautions that despite “really positive” and notable victories at staving off or “slowing down” some of the worst outcomes, significant damage has already been done. This includes the loss of expertise when jobs disappear under the dismantling of the DOE.
In addition, uncertainty remains. Barkoff describes what has been happening over the past year as “a fundamental shift” in the climate for disability rights but says that against this backdrop advocacy of all kinds, including litigation, is playing a huge part in mitigation.
Musheno stresses that a key advocacy priority is to “build connections and coalitions”. This, she believes, can keep despondency at bay when challenges are all-consuming; turning to the words of other activists can galvanise.
A favourite phrase of Musheno’s came from life-long disability rights advocate Bob Kafka, who died last year. “Don’t warn. Organise.”
It’s a message we’d all do well to live by.
